


The Bird Scarer

by DementedPixie



Series: Demented Pixie's Pros Fic [15]
Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22649836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedPixie/pseuds/DementedPixie
Summary: Bodie has a visitorPLEASE DO NOT RE-POST THIS STORY ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM.
Relationships: William Bodie/Ray Doyle
Series: Demented Pixie's Pros Fic [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1264832
Kudos: 8





	The Bird Scarer

**Author's Note:**

> My name is Demented Pixie and I’m a Pros fan, but that hasn’t always been my name. If you knew me as In Love With Both and you’re a friend, then you’ll already know why I left the fandom some years back. But, hey, a girl can change her mind, and I have therefore decided to re-share my Professionals fanfiction on this amazing Archive – no changes, no improvements, no alterations. I’ll be posting them just as they were written. No comments, no trolls, and no betas. Just me and my stories. I’m sharing them so that they can take their place in the archive, but I’m also sharing them for the Pros generation, for those future generations yet to discover Bodie and Doyle, and for Sandra, who has never ceased waving pompoms for all Pros fanfiction writers.  
> The following story was written by me in 2011.

The low evening sun reflected on the three circular discs of mirrored glass as they turned idly in the gentle breeze. Bodie loved this time of day and found that he was gradually falling in love with this time of year as well. 

It was June, just before the solstice, when the nights were long and you could sit outside well into the evening. He concentrated on the sounds that surrounded him, listening to the birds as they swooped and settled in the trees. There was a small pond to his left and the water softly trickled over the carefully arranged stones. It probably wasn’t a natural feature, Bodie realised, but the attempt to replicate nature in order to sooth the senses was much appreciated. 

The glass circles moved again, catching his attention and drawing him in. What was it meant to be, anyway? Something to scare the birds? Well if it was a scarecrow it wasn’t a very good one, he thought to himself. Maybe it was just a mobile, some hippie’s idea of a garden decoration. 

Whatever it was it did an excellent job of hypnotising him every evening when he came to sit in the garden after dinner. Intently he watched the three dancing discs, drawn in by the pattern they created, the way they trapped the light. Somehow, in the noisy confusion of life, they made him feel calm. 

The noisy confusion of life... He frowned. Where did he know that from? A sudden intense pain in his head made him drop his face into his hands with a groan. He knew those words, but where from? 

It was as if the answer was on the periphery of his vision, like when you look up at the Milky Way at night. You could see it, but only if you didn’t look directly at it. Whenever he tried to find the answer to anything, anything at all, it all seemed to be just outside of his grasp. It was only when he stopped trying to remember that flashes of memory came back to him, hard, fast, and incredibly painful. 

A rustle of sound came from behind, then a firm, warm hand was on his shoulder. 

“Bodie? You okay?”

He jumped away from the touch and the voice, standing up so fast he hardly realised he had done it. He swallowed noisily then stared open mouthed at the man standing before him. Breathless, curly hair tousled and unkempt with dark stubble covering his chin, he looked dangerous somehow. 

Bodie took a nervous step back, not entirely sure of the best way to react or how he was supposed to feel. 

The hand reached forward again, this time open, palm upward. “Bodie? It’s me, Ray. You remember me, don’t you? I came to visit you yesterday.” The voice was calm, patient, perhaps even bordering on patronising. 

Of course Bodie remembered him. He remembered him from yesterday. He seemed to expect him to remember a lot of things, this Ray who kept visiting him. 

Ray sat on the bench. Bodie’s bench. Bodie stared down at him. “Come and sit back down, eh?” said this Ray who kept visiting him, who kept telling him what to do. 

Bodie sighed and did as he was told.

“Okay now?” This Ray didn’t seem to expect an answer to any of his questions. Interesting, that. Bodie felt he probably should answer at some point, but he didn’t think he would start today. He didn’t really know who this Ray was, so it wouldn’t do to let his guard down. Not before he was sure. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I was just concerned. You didn’t look well for a minute there.” Ray looked around the garden, obviously happy with the view. “Nice evening.”

Again no reply was expected and again, none was given. That didn’t worry Ray, not one bit. 

“Expect you’ve been having more therapy today, eh? Knocks you out, that. Expect you’re knackered.”

This Ray chatted a lot. Bodie didn’t know why or what he expected in return. Best to just let him get on with it, thought Bodie, get it out of his system. Maybe he was a patient here too, but one who needed to talk a lot. 

“Been on the most boring obbo in the world today,” said Ray, in a tone of voice that seemed to assume that Bodie would be interested. “Me and Murphy sat in a car, watching a door. Just a door. All fucking day. How daft is that? And as much as I like Murph it doesn’t feel right to sit in silence with him like I can with you. It’s like he’s waiting for me to talk all the time. Drives me crazy.”

The irony of Doyle’s story wasn’t lost on Bodie who raised an eyebrow, somewhat sarcastically. Apparently this Ray liked to sit in silence but whenever he visited Bodie all he did was talk. For a fleeting moment Bodie wished he could talk to him, to share the joke. 

He probably wouldn’t have got the chance though, as Ray carried on. “Did you get the clean clothes I brought you?” Doyle turned and looked him up and down. “Oh yeah, you did. You’re wearing em.” He grinned. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted the polo necks or if they were a bit warm in this weather. So I packed you some t-shirts as well. Had a bit of trouble with the machine at the launderette. You won’t believe what happened...”

The silence was very welcome when it finally came. 

The peace of the garden eventually worked its magic on Ray Doyle and after a few minutes Bodie noticed that he had stopped talking. Doyle had moved slightly till he was sat very close, causing their shoulders to touch. Bodie knew that for some reason it was important that he ignore the touch, so instead he concentrated on the three silver discs. There was very little movement in them now the breeze had dropped, but they still appeared to be somehow magical. 

The heat of the day had finally evaporated and the flowers seemed to almost breathe a sigh of relief. The sun that gave them life could also drain their energy, causing them to droop and wilt. Now, in the calm of the evening, they regained their strength and power. Bodie inhaled the suddenly intense fragrance of nearby roses. 

The little garden seemed caught in time and Bodie was caught with it. He didn’t really mind. It was a nice place to be caught, for now at least. 

Then Ray sighed gently and Bodie found himself copying. 

He noticed the little sideways look this earned him. 

Had he done something wrong? He hoped not. Ray looked quite pleased about it anyway. 

Bodie watched out of the corner of his eye to see if there would be another reaction from this Ray who kept visiting him. Instead, Ray just relaxed and draped his arm across the back of the bench. He closed his eyes and raised his face towards the last of the sunshine as it flickered low through the trees. 

Ray’s lips parted then, without opening his eyes, he whispered to the garden, “With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” 

The words had an instant effect on Bodie, the sudden agony inside his head so intense, so fierce that it forced a cry from his lips. 

“Shit! Are you in pain? I’ll get help.” Doyle made to move away but found he was held in place by a firm grip on his arm. 

In the two weeks since Bodie had been exchanged at the border crossing, he hadn’t allowed anyone to touch him. Nor had he voluntarily touched anyone else. Doyle froze, unsure of what to do. 

The grip on his arm increased in strength. 

“Bodie?” 

Slowly, the hold relaxed. Almost in slow motion, Bodie moved his head forward until it was resting lightly on Doyle’s shoulder. Eyes closed, he buried them in the fabric of Doyle’s jacket, breathing in the combined scent of aftershave and bacon sandwich. He could see the rotating mirrors in his head and he focussed hard on them. He knew they could help clear his mind, to bring clarity to his confused and muddled brain. 

In his imagination they twisted in the breeze once again. The sunlight glinted and made rainbows in the mirrors as they endlessly turned to and fro.

Reflections.

Two sides.

Light and shade. 

Yin and yang.

Bodie and Doyle. 

Bodie held his breath then, with a gasp, he remembered Doyle. He remembered everything. In his imagination he saw the Milky Way as clear as anything, and his mouth crinkled into a smile for the first time in many weeks. Tentative arms encircled him, gently but determinedly drawing him into a comforting embrace. 

“Bodie? You okay with this?” The words sounded nervous, unsure. 

It looked like he was going to have to speak today after all.


End file.
